There is a poem I wrote for my teachers (from my ex-school) a couple of months ago. If you want to read it, click here
Thinking back about it, now I wonder if I had been more lenient with my words. I don’t miss anything about them. I know that they were lousy. Its a generalisation, I admit. Period. They didn’t care one bit about what kind of impact they were leaving on the student body.
They expected that just because they were older, we were to respect them. They expected that since our scriptures talk about Guru in golden letters, we were to worship them. I wish they knew that their current state of existence was a living insult to the scriptures.
They used to tell tales about their surviving dedication to their once teachers. Hahaha! so desperate for emotions that they could never awaken within us. They complain that we don’t wish them anymore once promoted to higher standards. Half of the time, I don’t know whether they remember me or not. The faces are blank and devoid of signs of recognition. I would rather walk away in silence than receive a stony expression in return of my (almost already half-hearted) greetings.
What for? All we wanted was some good teaching and genuine treatment with dignity. Behavior of a professional and traits of a mature adult. Not too much to ask for, is it?
I know that my culture says that elders should be respected. But I don’t understand how you can respect somebody just because they are older and s’posed to know better.
In every interview or article about the achievements of a local student, there is always gratitude expressed for teachers (a cliché). I pray, despite myself, that not all of it is phony.
AISCHA
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